


The Witch and the Faerie King

by tangerinabina_de_archanea



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/M, Faerie!Claude, First Kiss, Getting Together, Gratuitious amounts of banter as flirting, Witch!Byleth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:07:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 3,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25598542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tangerinabina_de_archanea/pseuds/tangerinabina_de_archanea
Summary: “And who do I have the pleasure of dancing with tonight?” the faerie king asked.Now, anyone who has any sense knows that they must never give their true name to any who command magic, for names are the source of magic themselves, and give absolute control to any who know it, if they so wish. The witch knew this, and yet she also knew that the king already seemed shrewd, and would be able to tell if she was lying.“By,” she told him, and the faerie king seemed satisfied.“I am King Claude. Come, the orchestra awaits.”A bedtime story about a witch who met the King of the Faeries.
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 10
Kudos: 97





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY SARAH!!! You are one of the kindest, sweetest people I know, and I'm eternally grateful for all the support and love you've shown me ever since day one! You're an amazing friend and I hope you have a wonderful birthday!!! <3

A long time ago, many years before you or I or any of us were born, there lived a witch in the woods with her father. By the townspeople she was called the Ashen Demon, for it was rumored that she had let a demon eat her heart and become one herself. Whether or not this is true, I do not know; she never told me. Regardless of that, her father called her Byleth, and that is what she called herself.

Now, her father had once been a mercenary, skilled with lance and sword, but he had grown old and ill. Being a witch, she was skilled in healing, and yet no amount of magic nor potion nor hex had eased his ailment. However, she did not lose hope, for she had heard that nectar from the faerie realm was able to cure any infirmity, and so she made plans to enter the realm of the faeries and take some nectar for herself. 

When she entered the faerie ring, she found herself within a beautiful meadow, twinkling with lights, and was met with the sound of laughter and music, and the scent of a delicious banquet. The faeries were celebrating, it seemed, with a masquerade ball. She herself had already come masked and winged by magic, wary of showing her true face, and was able to disguise herself among the crowd. 

How long it took to find the nectar, I cannot say, for she does not know either; it could have been minutes or years. When she did find it, it was at the table of the faerie king, flowing from a beautiful golden fountain. Faeries were congregated around it, drinking and making merry, and so it was not difficult to slip between them and fill a flask with the sweet nectar.

When she turned around, preparing to leave, she found a faerie more dazzling than all the others before her. From behind a mask fashioned in the shape of a deer shone eyes green as the meadow around them, and bright as the lights above them. The golden antlers of this mask formed a crown on his splendid head, and his robes were a rich gold woven so finely that the water of the river would be envious of its flow. He raised his hand, clothed in a fine leather glove, to invite her to dance, and she accepted, one hand taking his as the other slipped her precious secret into the belt at her hip.

Somehow, when their hands touched, she realized that this was the faerie king whose table she had just stolen from.

“And who do I have the pleasure of dancing with tonight?” the faerie king asked.

Now, anyone who has any sense knows that they must never give their true name to any who command magic, for names are the source of magic themselves, and give absolute control to any who know it, if they so wish. The witch knew this, and yet she also knew that the king already seemed shrewd, and would be able to tell if she was lying.

“By,” she told him, and the faerie king seemed satisfied.

“I am King Claude. Come, the orchestra awaits.”

They danced all night, fairly flying over the meadow’s grass, until the light of the sun peeked through the clouds, and the call for the final dance was given. As they took their final positions, the faerie king spoke to her again.

“Your mask is crude,” the faerie king said. “You are hardly of this forest. I can see right through you. What is your purpose here?”

She knew she had been caught, and decided that telling the truth would be the most sound choice. “I wished for some sweet nectar, that I may save my father.”

“And yet you did not ask.”

“I knew I would be refused.”

“So you came to steal?”

“I did.”

“And have you?”

“I did.”

A smirk played across his lips. “You must be very clever, then, to steal from my table. You must also be very powerful to enter the faerie realm undetected.”

“If I am to be punished, I only beg that my father is saved.”

“Awfully bold of you to beg a favor from one you have wronged. However… You have impressed me. I tend to be generous when impressed. Leave now, and no punishment shall come to you.”

“And what of the dance? Shall I leave you without a partner?”

“Certainly not,” he smiled. “First a thief, and now mannerless?”

“Hardly,” she said, and dipped him low as the music swelled. Despite the incriminating flask at her hip, she found herself charmed, and when she stepped out of the faerie circle to find that the moon still shone, he occupied her thoughts.


	2. Chapter 2

In the coming days her father’s ailment eased, but did not fade completely. She was tempted to return to the faerie circle in order to retrieve more nectar, but being that he was out of the gravest danger for now, she deemed the risk to be greater than the reward. Thus she settled for working her own magic to keep his comfort steady, hunting to keep the cupboards full, and chopping wood to keep the fire stoked.

She was doing the last of these things when a traveler approached along the road, hunched and cloaked. Pausing in her labors, with sweat upon her brow, she greeted the traveler. “Good day to you, good traveler. To where are you bound?”

“Nowhere but a place I can rest, good witch,” the traveler answered. “May I sit with you a while?”

“Happily, good traveler, for the weather is unseasonably warm, and you seem to be old, and I am young. If this heat is intolerable for I, it must be doubly so for you.”

“A tongue as sharp as you are strong and beautiful,” the traveler quipped, and settled upon a stump. All she could see of him were his gloves, of fine black leather, and his eyes, green as the faerie’s meadow. “And as potent as your magic. I can sense great power within you.”

“You would be correct. I am even complimented by the Fair Folk on my talents.”

“Is that so?” the traveler chuckled. “You must be very accomplished. Allow me to ask a favor again, from an  _ old  _ one to a young one.” He seemed rather amused by the suggestion of his age. 

“And what do you ask?”

“Teach me your magic, good witch, that I may never know hunger in my life again.”

Immediately, she realized that her companion was not of her own realm, but rather of the faerie realm. It was not uncommon in those days for Fair Folk to test humans with these sorts of requests and games, and she knew that a refusal was seen as both cowardice and an insult to the faerie themselves. However, she would not give up so precious a secret so quickly.

“That is not a magic learned easily, good traveler, but I can make hunger a stranger to you now.” With that, she gave him the bread and cheese she had brought with her, to keep her satisfied during her work. “It will serve you better than I.” Receiving the meal, he thanked her kindly before continuing on down the road. 

At length he stood tall and abandoned the road for the forest, and she thought of the faerie king.

When she returned home, the flask of nectar at her hip was full, and her father’s health improved.


	3. Chapter 3

A fortnight after the encounter upon the road, a mysterious merchant arrived in the market, selling wares of great extravagance and rarity. Many marked themselves with the Sign of the Goddess when passing by his tent, full of fear that his goods had been gained through illicit or unholy means. Only the witch was willing to enter, for she was eager to see his wares.

“Welcome, good witch,” the shopkeeper greeted her from the shadows. The meager sunlight entering his tent was enough to make his green eyes and fine leather gloves shine, but that was all that remained unobscured of his person. “You are either very brave or very foolish.”

“Perhaps I am both, or perhaps I am neither. What I am sure that I am is ill luck for your business, for the people of this town have already assumed you to be in league with devils, and now their worst fears have been confirmed by my entrance, for they believe me to be one myself.”

“Ha! The sun has not yet set on my first day of business and you are already cursing me. Tell me, what have I done to deserve your scorn, good witch?”

“Naught but tempt my curiosity, and set up a shop that invites none but the supernatural inside. Now, show me your wares, and I will think of some compensation I may offer for your ill fortune.”

“Indeed, let us see.” Saying this, he brought forth a chest full of wondrous treasures, and watched her carefully as she examined them. “What sort of compensation would you find favorable?”

“A kiss from a witch is highly valued in certain spells. Would that suffice?”

“My lips would enjoy your kiss very well, but my coffers would not. However, if you are still offering gratis, I will not refuse.”

“Then dream of it tonight when you rest your head, for you shall not receive it now. Perhaps later, if there is a need. What would you deem fair?”

“Teach me your magic, good witch, that I may never know poverty in my life again.”

“I cannot teach you to gain wealth, good merchant, but I can make poverty a stranger to you now.” Saying this, she gave him a sack full of gold. “I desire none of your wares, but I do offer this advice. Capturing the hearts of the common folk by magic rather than honesty will never truly make their hearts kinder to you. Even if I taught you magic, you would struggle for the rest of your days to find true loyalty.”

The merchant’s smile flashed brilliant white in the dark, and again she thought of the faerie king.

When she returned home, the flask of nectar at her hip was full, and her father’s health improved.


	4. Chapter 4

A month hence, the witch journeyed to the woods surrounding her home, that she may seek out a rare herb for potion making. The sun had nearly set over the mountains when she sensed a great disturbance, and, unsure of its source, sought it out.

At length she found a magnificent stag trapped within a net. When she approached, he first bucked and struggled, refusing to allow her to come within any reasonable distance. When she attempted to use magic to sever the knots, they only drew tighter, and thus she realized that only physical cuts would free the stag, and yet he would not allow her close.

“What do you wish me to do, good stag?”

For a brief moment, there was silence in the forest, and then she felt the stag’s answer in her heart.

_ Teach me your magic, good witch, that I may never know captivity in my life again. _

“I cannot teach you to free yourself, good stag, but I can make captivity a stranger to you now.” Slowly, she approached. “However, you must trust that I will not harm you, and I must trust that you will not harm me.”

With this, the stag ceased his struggles, becoming gentle as a lamb, and allowed her to cut away the ropes. When they both rose, he nuzzled her neck and nipped at her hair, and when she laughed- more a quiet sound of amusement than anything, but a laugh all the same- he stared at her as if in awe. 

At length the stag turned and galloped away into the forest, and again she thought of the faerie king. 

When she returned home, the flask of nectar at her hip was full, and her father’s health improved.


	5. Chapter 5

The witch spent many a day lost in thought over her three encounters, or so she told me; others claim it was naught but an afternoon before she returned again to the merchant’s tent. He had taken to arriving every morning in the village and vanishing by noon, regardless of whether or not he made any profit. It was a habit that she was accustomed to, for she often visited, finding his company favorable.

When she entered on this day, they spoke as usual, but there was a glimmer of knowing in his eyes, as there was in hers. He already knew that she had discovered his secret.

At length, she interrupted the idle chatter of formalities and niceties. “Do not toy with me Claude, King of the Fair Folk, for I know who you are. Answer me truthfully: to what end have you come into the human realm?”

“You restrain yourself so well,” the faerie king chuckled, stepping fully into the light to reveal himself. Despite his plain garb, he was still as splendid and regal as the night she first met him. “And to what end do you reveal my secret when any member of the town could hear it? First you convince them that I consort with devils, and now you tell them I am one of the Fair Folk? Truly, you are a curse upon my business.” Despite his accusations, his tone was filled with levity and his smile brilliant.

“Fie, if you had wished to remain hidden, you easily could have. I have suspected you since the first morn you arrived, and I suspected you as well as the traveler.”

“And as the stag?”

“How can you claim that I reveal your secrets when you expose them so easily yourself?”

“I can hardly call them secrets when you are clever enough to know them all.”

“Ha! You are marvelously talented at avoiding questions,” she said, an amused smile tugging at her lips.

“I do declare, that is the first time I have seen you smile.”

“An excellent attempt, Your Highness, but I will not be dissuaded. Let us return to the beginning. To what end are you here?”

His expression grew somber. “That I will not say as long as there may be prying ears around, whether they be mortal, fae, or woodland creature.”

“Yet I demand to know. We have met many times, and I wish to know why.”

“And you shall know, but we must go to a place where the wrong words may not meet the wrong people.” Saying this, he opened his chest of wonders and withdrew a deer mask, lacking antlers but otherwise just as beautiful as his from the masquerade. “Take this mask and wear it to the faerie circle tonight. I will find you, and take you to my home, where we may talk in private.”

With this, the faerie king and his tent vanished.

The witch returned home, the flask of nectar at her hip full, and her father’s ailment vanished completely.


	6. Chapter 6

When she arrived at the faerie circle that night, gone were the lights and music and carousing faeries; only the faerie king was there, standing cloaked before her.

“There you are,” he said. “Come, we must make haste. Onto my back.” With this, he transformed into a stag, even more magnificent than he had been in the human realm, and she mounted him swiftly. They ran through the realm of the faeries, faster than the wind itself, and soon entered the royal palace, where his hooves did not even touch the ground as he took her through room after room. Fearing that she may fall, she clasped her arms tightly around his neck, and did not release them even when he stopped.

She felt his reassurance in her heart.  _ We are safe here. Come, you may dismount. _

Trembling, she did, and he became himself once again, his hands grasping her quickly to support her. “We had to be swift, in order that we may not be followed. Come, come- sit and I shall tell you everything you wish to know.” Saying this, he led her to a chair and served her wine.

When she had recovered, she spoke. “Now answer my question. To what end did you journey into the human realm?”

“I sensed your power the moment you entered my realm on that first night. I had an alliance in mind between us, that we may achieve a certain goal of mine, but I had to ensure that I could trust you, and so I tested you. I learned three times that you are practical and cautious, generous and shrewd, and above all, kind and trustworthy.”

“And yet we interacted more beyond your three tests.”

“Ah, those… those were of my own selfish desires to know you better,” he smiled, sitting next to her and pouring himself wine as well. “You fascinate me. And I fascinate you, it seems.”

“There is some truth to that,” she admitted, returning a slight smile of her own. “What is this goal you speak of?”

“A dream I have had since I was a child. You are familiar with the relations between our realms, of course. Faeries see humans as silly, stupid cowards. Humans see faeries as beastly, meddling creatures. These beliefs are all founded upon ignorance. My dream is to defeat that ignorance and create a world where we see each other as friends, not enemies, but I have realized that I cannot do so on my own. I initially hoped to use your power to achieve this, but you have reminded me that hearts are not so easily won with magic.”

She thought for a moment. “What you speak of would require building our world anew.”

“Do you think my ambitions too lofty?”

“I admit, I do. It is not so easy to change the world, but it is a beautiful thought.”

“That is why I need your help. Think on it, please.”

“May I ask why this is so dear to your heart?”

“Personal reasons,” the faerie king said. “Would you care for more wine?”


	7. Chapter 7

In the coming days the witch thought on the faerie king’s words, and visited him each night to discuss the matter further. Each night, he asked her again if she would aid him, and each night she said again that she must think. On one of these days, when she was hunting in the woods, she came across a stag, and unthinkingly raised her bow towards it.

_ Stay your bow, my friend,  _ she felt in her heart, and suddenly before her was not a stag but the faerie king himself. “I would hate for our relationship to end so abruptly after getting on good terms with each other.”

“Then perhaps you should not roam the woods as a stag,” she said, lowering her bow. “Most hunters would shoot quicker after hearing you speak.”

“Ha! Perhaps, but they would miss. I am something of a marksman myself, you see, and so I know how best to trick an arrow.”

“With magic?” 

“But of course with magic. Why rely on risky physical skills when I have all the power of my realm at my fingertips? It is much more reliable,” he winked. “May I show you?”

They spent the afternoon in leisurely hunting, his hands often finding a place on her hips or her arms as he helped her improve her posture, and her fingers often finding themselves in his hair as she smoothed it back for him. They did not discuss the matter of the faerie king’s dreams until the sun was setting in a golden sky, and he was demonstrating for her a technique used by hunters of his realm.

“May I ask again why this is so dear to your heart?”

Lowering his bow, the faerie king nodded. “I cannot keep my final secret from your for long, I am sure, so I will tell you. My mother was of the human realm, and my father the faerie king himself. From their love came me. This is why I ache so for a world in which there is no hate between our peoples, but friendship. The world as it is now has no place for me, so I will make a world where there is.”

“But you are king. Do your people not accept you?” 

“Some do. Most do not.” He drew his bow again. “That is why I have so many secret rooms in my palace. Attempts on my life have required that I exercise more caution.”

“Oh… you have endured much more than you show. I am sorry.”

“Do you still think my ambitions too lofty?”

“Do you believe they are?” 

“Not with you by my side.”

“Then they are not,” she smiled. “I will help you, Claude.”

With a confident smile, his arrow flew true.


	8. Chapter 8

She visited the faerie king often, and each night, reclining in his arms and watching the stars, she asked him the same question.

“Do you still think that you will succeed?”

Each night, he gave the same response.

“I do. I will not let the fear of failure stop me from trying. What are my dreams, compared to a sky so large? They are not half so impossible as one might think.”

One night, he did not answer as she was accustomed to, but instead paused before speaking.

“If I do, will you still be there by my side?”

“Yes, if only my mortal days allow it.”

“There is a way,” the faerie king mused, “to bind our days together. We shall never see a sunrise or sunset if the other does not.”

“I know that magic, but we must know each other’s true names.”

“Indeed.”

There was silence between them, poignant and sweet, and then the witch spoke. “Good king of the faeries, I give you my true name: Byleth.”

“Almost as beautiful as you are,” the king said. “And, good witch, I give you my true name: Khalid.”

“A name almost as beautiful as you.”

There was silence yet again as they settled into the comfort of their new intimacy with each other, knowing that now they had shared the greatest secret with each other and given the highest trust. 

At length, the faerie king spoke. “I have heard from a reliable source that a kiss from a witch is highly valued in certain spells. Do you believe that this will be one such spell?”

“I do,” she said, and saying this, she professed her love with her lips and kissed him. 


	9. Chapter 9

Change is not easy; in fact, it is rather difficult. There are some whose hearts are open to it, and there are some who are willing to open their hearts, and there are some who will never do so. That is simply the way of the world. However, we must not allow such things to dissuade us, as our parents also have not. Mother and Father were married on a beautiful spring day, with both faeries and humans in attendance, and have worked tirelessly since to create a world in which people do not put up walls between them or have hatred in their eyes when they see someone they call an outsider.

We, their children, must do all that we can to carry on their legacy, and that is why I tell you their story, for it is a beautiful story, is it not?

Now the stars rise in the night sky and the sun is called to bed; now the birds in the air and the fish in the sea are returning to their homes to rest; now you, my brothers and sisters, must rest as well, and dream of a future even brighter than the present our parents have already given us. Now hush, little ones, and sleep well.


End file.
